


Oxytocin

by Coffin Liqueur (HP_Lovecats)



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: F/M, First Time, Implied Sexual Content, Local Emotionally-Stunted Man Ironically Doesn't Know How To Feel About Having A Feeling, Post-Deed Cuddlin', Post-Deed Really Overthinking It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:40:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29829213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HP_Lovecats/pseuds/Coffin%20Liqueur
Summary: It's one hell of a drug.
Relationships: Lucas Baker/Mioda Ibuki
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	Oxytocin

He looked down at her after he finished.

Maybe for... two, three whole minutes. She looked back up at him, all the while. Both of them catching breaths siphoned in and out through rushed and ragged sighs, with quick trembles and turns and licks of their lips. His hand was still clasped on over hers all half-tight like the grab of a bird getting ready to carry its chick off to greener pastures; their hold tightened here and there, on each of their sides. One would squeeze, an inverse stretch, experimental; the other would feel back, puffin' out a narrower, more concentratedly-voiced sigh. One pair of long eyelashes would bat. Then the other.

Her eyes were warm. She held them on him like she was having the most wonderful dream. Was trying to tell him about it through some kinda telepathy.

And his were misted over by a haze he tried to see through. Tried.

He knew she was there. He saw her, all perfectly clear. Still felt her all warm against and around him, and the little patters of gradually-resting blood through skin.

Clean white lights still shone in his head, at the tips of individual nodes - like lanterns, or the ends of bulbs and whiskers on deep-sea fish. At the center of each buzzed and thrummed the sheer energy of some unarticulated thought. A raw,  _ just-is _ feeling that sat still, content inside itself.

_ She's pretty, ain't she, Lucas? _

_ She's pretty and she likes you. _

_ She  _ is  _ like you, too. _

_ Did you ever think you'd ever find one of your own kind? _

_ You did. You found one. And she likes you and she's super-beautiful and she wants to be yours. She ain't said it, but she's here. That can only mean one thing. _

_ She thinks you're hers, too. _

He disentangled his hand from hers. Lifting it straight vertically, hanging off the wrist. She turned partway under him, looked at where hers still clung like a teeny octopus with a blink. Popped her fingers fanned apart, let her eyes go round, clasped both hands in a bit of coquettishness just above her chest, one finger and thumb playing at the backs of their opposites. She wiggled a couple of times. He thought of a ferret, of all things, in a quick little flash.

Her pupils followed his hand on its ginger, ginger way to her temple.

And her eyes widened just the slightest bit further as he, likewise ginger, slow, hooked one index finger under a lock of her hair. Picked it up and played and fiddled with it in small movements under his thumb.

She turned her eyes on back up to him. She blinked a slow, happy blink, mouth curvin' up high at the corners underneath it. A little poke-out of those too-white, almost too-sharp teeth.

And he slowly, slowly let his head fall to a tilt - an old wooden door on the measured movement of a mechanical hinge.

There was definitely, indeed, an ache in his chest. It had tightened, faintly.

He wasn't  _ happy _ . Why would he not be happy?

He turned an open frown. To ask the question to no one and nothing but the powers that be, maybe. To nag a clue from the ether. Or just to... redirect some of the strain.

Ibuki saw it right away when her eyes opened again. Her smile blipped right out; she tilted her head, too, mouth goin' round as she swept a hand up around the back of his head. The air just between 'em moved in that just-warm, just-breezed way that tickles the skin. Sends tingles into the nerves.

"What's up?" she asked. Voice as light as a chickadee. "You think you might have left the oven on?"

He blew out a token huff of a scoffin' laugh through his nose, mostly - a quick twist around his mouth to show his teeth real quick before -

_ Nahh. Nahhhh, Ibuki. Nahhh. _

That even, gray blankness slow-settled over his face again. Wearily neutralizing. "I'm fine," he said. Almost all a dry wind across a cave mouth - just the slightest tinge of vocalization along the upper edge.

The ache was strengthening. The scowl deepened some. And his eyelids weighted all the more as his eyes locked on hers. Like she was a crystal ball.

He wanted to be held, he realized. ( _ Tshh _ \- maybe she  _ was _ one, despite the awfully  _ girlie-like shape _ .) Was that all? Was  _ that _ why he wasn't happy?

...His elbows trembled, just faintly, as he began to lower himself borne back down on top of her. Eyes averted - shivering re-narrowed with some kinda focus. Mentally feeling through the distance till the first graze of her chest back against his.

She bubbled a teeny laugh - looped one arm around him right away, then the other. She tugged him, a little - his heart pulled back on some kindovan imaginary leash outta - what, sudden shock? Wanting to feel it harder? He didn't know.

But once that temperature-less flash passed, over he was poured by a nice, even warmth.

A steady, steady pour of water at an easy warmth, coating the surface of the skin.

And that ache turned tighter-yet-slower.

Like a stretch.

...He emitted a small, sagging  _ whine _ into her hair. Face all wincing, corners of his mouth turned down. Eyes shutting. She was definitely meant to hear it - vague expression of confusion; a request for an answer from a place of not fucking wanting to request anything.  _ Why am I achin'? I thought I'm supposed to feel like a million bucks - hot and high and bubblin' all over. _

_ I'm supposed to feel like a goddamn stallion. _

_...I feel sad instead. _

_ Is that even what it is? I don't get sad... _

He had started nosing deeper into her hair, apparently - and she giggled again. Pulled him down harder with one wrap-up of her hand - her other swept up his neck. Flicked through his hair.

Vibrations shivered along his shoulders. He whimpered again - collapsed with a vocalized sigh.

He slow-blinked once, through hazy glowin' white vision. Heard her  _ hummmmmmm _ by the side of his head - more vibrations. Caught in the back of his ear, streaming down pathways to fizz in his shoulders all the warmer.

He shut his eyes again. Turned back toward her with a little writhe and twist along his spine. His fingers tightened in her hair as if he was clutching the cloth of a teddy bear; one last sound like an airless low creak worked itself low in his throat as he begin to go limp.

Feeling nothing but the pressure of her hips and that gentle edge-of-a-butterfly's-wing brush and tease of her skin on him. Brushing lightly, fingers grazing over his scalp. Suspension in cool. Gentleness.

And that strange ache in his chest, turning and bending as if with a moaning, half-broken bough in a wind. It was worse. It was creaking harder. Croaking harder. Deeper.

And he nosed likewise deeper into her hair before falling over her again with one more sigh. A resigning one.

So that’s what it was  _ really  _ like - 

\-- Not wantin’ to be alone.


End file.
